


Sun Eater (The Best and Worst)

by Kimium



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: An Imbalanced relationship, It's still healthy to a degree but there is a lot Inigo and Owain need to talk out, Kissing, M/M, Minor Awakening spoilers, Minor mention of canon typical violence, Minor mention of unhealthy coping methods, One Shot, Tenderness, a bit bittersweet, a bit of self deprecation, tumblr prompt fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:48:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23192710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimium/pseuds/Kimium
Summary: One shot. Tumblr Prompt Fill: "At my worst, I worry you'll realise you deserve better. At my best, I worry you won't. (I've never been better.)""Owain deserved someone better, someone who wasn’t a hot mess like Inigo was. Owain really was too kind. He deserved someone else equally as kind. Why couldn’t Owain just wake up and do something good for himself? Inigo opened his mouth to tell Owain, to knock some sense into him."Inigo has a lot of complicated thoughts on his relationship with Owain. Or where Inigo is a greedy Sun Eater, eating away at Owain's light.
Relationships: Azur | Inigo/Eudes | Owain
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Sun Eater (The Best and Worst)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> This is a quick Awakening fic that was prompted to me by an Anon on my Tumblr after I reblogged a prompt list. The prompt is: "At my worst, I worry you'll realise you deserve better. At my best, I worry you won't. (I've never been better.)" and the Anon asked for Inigo/Owain or Laslow/Odin depending on where I wanted to place my timeline. I chose Inigo/Owain because I rarely write in Awakening and for me in Fates I feel Laslow/Odin have more of their shit sorted out and Awakening Inigo/Owain do Not. Ahaha... Anyways I hope you all like this fic!
> 
> As always please feel free to leave me kudos and or comments as those always make my day! Also if you want to check out my tumblr (or see that original prompt list) my tumblr is right [here](http://www.kimium.tumblr.com).

The world was on fire, dancing in flames of despair when Inigo roughly pulled Owain to his body. Flush with Owain, their skin was filthy — a disgusting mix of dirt, sweat, ashes, and blood. Iron scented hands and fingers curled into soot and blood-stained fabric as Inigo scrambled for purchase, using his agility from dancing to his advantage. In a normal scenario Owain would overpower Inigo, the advantage clearly written upon Owain’s arms and stature. This was not a normal scenario and soon Inigo had Owain pressed against a half dead tree trunk, a good chunk of the bark burnt away in a blackened charcoal that bled white at the tips. Owain’s nose flared, his eyes widening sharply with a hiss that was a healthy mix of pain and irritation. Inigo swallowed the hiss with his lips, angling his face as he captured Owain in a kiss. Flecks of blood danced along Inigo’s tongue as he ruthlessly kissed Owain in a dance that was as savage as the battlefield they had lay waste to mere moments ago.

War wasn’t kind. Battles weren’t honourable. Death wasn’t glorious. And corpses were just corpses. Inigo’s mind danced with soot covered memories that snagged in the dirt and blood of the battlefield. A screech of white-hot despair— a cruel mixture of anger, sorrow, fear, and pain dripped off the memories in puddles of inky blackness. Once, when Inigo was young and naïve, he had read about supposed blackholes in the space beyond the planet, how the darkness swallowed everything up, including light. At the time the book was mere fantasy. But now that Inigo was older (or more accurately still a child just not naïve any more) he knew that fantasy often was a parody of reality. Really, the book should have just called the blackholes “Grima” and the light “everything good in Inigo’s life”. Everyone Inigo loved was suffering. People Inigo loved were dying. Or were already dead.

Inigo kissed Owain harder to drive the thoughts away, but the balance of despair threatened to wobble closer to sorrow, less to anger. Inigo pulled away from Owain’s mouth, tasted the salt on his lips, growled, before kissing Owain again. Warmth and movement danced under Inigo’s lips, filling his hollow being with life. Owain threw himself into the kiss and when they parted Inigo’s face was tight in the way only tear-stained skin could feel. Disgusting. Inigo pulled away and wiped his face, smearing blood and dirt along with the tears.

“You all right?” Owain’s voice was gruff but his tone soft along with his eyes. “Gods be damned, I love you so much, Inigo.”

Love. Owain loved someone like him. Like a star struck fool that couldn’t see beyond the immediate. Owain deserved someone better, someone who wasn’t a hot mess like Inigo was. Owain really was too kind. He deserved someone else equally as kind. Why couldn’t Owain just wake up and do something good for himself? Inigo opened his mouth to tell Owain, to knock some sense into him.

Instead all he could do was nod and pull Owain closer. “Kiss me.” Inigo demanded.

Owain obliged.

~

_“Are you all right?”_

_Inigo’s hand gripped around the dancer rings tighter, the cold metal burning into his palm. Leftover wetness from his tears had long dried up but the residue remained, Inigo’s eyes, particularly with the redness that still clung. Around him the world had quieted to an almost eerie silence, as though his grief had swallowed up the silence. Turning his head, Inigo spotted Owain standing there, arms loosely at his side, fingers brushing at the sword permanently attached to his hip. No rest during war._

_“Sorry, that was a dumb question.” Owain rubbed his hair, the blond dark in the low lighting of the room. “Dinner is ready. I came to see if you were hungry. If you don’t feel up to seeing everyone, I can bring your food here.”_

_“I’m fine.” Inigo automatically said, setting the dancer ring on the bed. “There is no need for me to wallow in the dark.”_

_Owain’s eyes didn’t stray from where Inigo’s hand was, still brushing the metal of the ring. “I know it isn’t much, but if you want to talk to me you can.”_

_The kindness lodged deeply in Inigo’s heart, a dull edge that nearly broke his composure. Quickly ducking his head, Inigo coughed, covering up a borderline hysterical sob. Shaking his head once then twice, Inigo curled his lips into a smile: strained, cracking, but a smile none the less. Everyone was despairing, sorrow clinging to them like a heavy cloth of darkness and rot. He wasn’t the only one and it was selfish to act like he was._

_“I’m fine.” Inigo pressed his voice not as strong as he would have liked it._

_This was where Owain would drop the subject, allow Inigo a moment to compose himself, and then leave silently with him to the dining hall. Instead, Owain stepped in closer, his eyes narrowed and expression both foreign and familiar on his face. (War really changed them for the worse.)_

_“There is no need to lie to yourself, Inigo. Sadness is not an object you can box neatly. It’s a liquid that will spill and flood regardless of how well you attempt to seal it up.” Owain’s voice held no theatrics and it carried in the empty room, filling the space as Owain sat down beside Inigo. “It is all right to cry.”_

_“I—”_

_Inigo’s voice caught and choked. Face flushing at the chink in his armour, Inigo tried again, but his voice cracked and along with it more tears. Owain watched silent, still, but not passively. In the darkness of the room Owain’s eyes burned: passion, kindness, sorrow, anger, guilt — it was a never-ending cycle and swirl that settled on the brightest of blues that lit Owain’s face aflame._

_(Once, Inigo read in his father’s collection, a book that stated just because some fire wasn’t red or orange it didn’t mean it wasn’t hot. Sometimes, it was hotter than regular fire.)_

_The fire in Owain’s eyes leapt from his expression and over to Inigo. Air was sucked out, consumed as the flames ate away at the fuel, taking up oxygen in a reaction that wasn’t ever going to cease. Their world was the fuel, Grima the fire, and the people the oxygen. Everything would consume itself in the end, a twisted race towards death and destruction._

_“I got you.” Owain’s voice was soft._

_He pulled Inigo into his arms and as Owain’s warm arms curled around Inigo he was hit with saltiness on his lips. Crying. Again. Inigo almost pulled away from Owain, but he was too warm and the warmth comforted him. Curling into Owain, Inigo let out a broken sob and wept loudly._

_“S-She told me to live… that she loved me…” Inigo gasped out, his head spinning. “In her last moments… my mother…”_

_“I know.” Owain’s voice half cracked, revealing the same agony that was gripping Inigo’s heart in a bloody fist. “I know.”_

_“I-It isn’t f-fair!” Inigo continued._

_“I know.” Owain’s hands rubbed gently up and down Inigo’s back. “I know.”_

_Inigo sobbed. He cried and shook with tears that never seemed to end. The world spun into a dizzy blur of salt, wetness, and agony. When time made sense again, Inigo’s throat ached, his eyes swollen, and his heart in shambles. Owain’s arms hadn’t left him and his embrace was still warm. A long second passed before Inigo gently picked himself up from Owain’s embrace, ready to move, but then he caught Owain’s expression._

_It too was cracked, laced with a bittersweet sorrow that oozed out with each breath exhaled and inhaled. But beneath all the slime of despair, of sorrow, and anger, and fear, was that blue fire that never burned out from Owain’s heart. It burned hotly inside of Owain’s chest, a flame that lit not just his eyes, but his soul. The flame drew Inigo in and briefly Inigo reminded himself that they were both grieving, that foolish actions shouldn’t be made. Selfish. Taking advantage. It swirled in a slick mix of guilt and excitement as Inigo, shoving everything else away, pushed Owain into the mattress and kissed him. The rush of adrenaline, of his sorrows flying away at the physical touch was nearly intoxicating. Then, all too soon, Inigo needed air, so he pulled away. Below him, Owain’s lips were stained pink, ready to become a dark red should they kiss more. For a moment, Owain didn’t react and Inigo wondered if this was it. If this was where Owain shoved him off, told him to not use him to distract himself from the grief, and never spoke to him again. He had every right to do so. Inigo had pushed too many lines, but he was too deep now._

_“I…” Owain opened his mouth._

_Inigo cut him off. “If you don’t want this, then leave.”_

_Silence. Would Owain shove him off now? Shoot some hurtful (but truthful) words at Inigo? A beat passed and none of those things happened. Instead, Owain remained under Inigo, as though waiting for him to start. It was enough of an invite as Inigo would receive. Leaning down, Inigo kissed Owain once more and it only took a second before Owain flipped their positions around. Soon he was pinning Inigo the mattress, their kips still locked, their kisses nothing more than a filthy slide of tongues and saliva. It wasn’t the kisses children’s tales spoke of, the ones with love and joy. It was hot, wet, and laced with guilt. A better person would pull away but Inigo never claimed to be a better person._

_And Owain? Owain was enough to not call Inigo out on his unhealthy coping mechanisms. Kind enough to kiss Inigo, strip Inigo, and sleep with Inigo rather than tell him that he was just dragging him down._

_(But really, they all had unhealthy coping mechanisms and Owain wasn’t a hypocrite.)_

~

When they returned to their camp, Brady immediately descended upon them, harsh words of scolding soft as his eyes were moist with tears that weren’t falling. Owain gave a warm smile, one laced with pain, as he accepted Brady’s fussing. He even appropriately winced as Brady gently wrapped an arm around Owain’s middle, right under his arms, and hoisted him towards a log so he could use his healing magic.

The heat from battle had drained everyone, leaving them as clustered groups silently staring into space. Inigo rubbed his hair and sat down softly beside Gerome. The masked flyer said nothing but he also didn’t move. Inigo half leaned into him and allowed his gaze to meander through their entire group, doing a silent check. Yarne was sandwiched between Cynthia and Laurent. Cynthia was half holding her spear in one hand and Yarne’s hand in her own. Laurent was skimming through a tome he must have read at least a dozen times over. Nah was with Kjelle and Severa, her hair being gently braided by Severa as Kjelle polished her armour. Lucina was with Noire, Falchion on her lap, the sword gleaming innocently in the fire’s light. Noire was lightly twanging her bowstring, her expression glued to the ground.

And of course, Owain was with Brady, his top half exposed as Brady did a mix of healing magic and regular bandaging. Inigo was easily able to catch Owain’s smile, bright and warm, as he gently coaxed a small bit of laughter and smiles from Brady as well. The fire’s light caught Owain’s hair, making it appear like spun gold alight with the sun’s rays. Shadows and light fell across Owain’s face and it helped highlight how handsome his features were, how strong his jaw was and how gorgeous his cheekbones. For a moment Inigo was reminded of an old children’s story about the sun god as a jokester and trickster figure bound to the earth, radiating warm and joy to all he talked to. If Owain was sunshine then what did it make Inigo who was always attempting to draw sunshine to his lips and consume it? A jealous god who wanted to eat the sun and all its radiance?

It was in that moment Owain half turned to meet Inigo’s stare. The fire’s light danced sharper across Owain’s face and into his eyes. The blue was like a sapphire alight with fire. He then smiled at Inigo, moving his hand to most likely gesture Inigo over so they could sit together. Inigo’s heart nearly burst and he broke their gaze, staring at his ash covered hands.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Oh great. Inigo looked up to see that Owain had easily crossed the minimal distance between them, plopping down beside Inigo.

“Don’t just leave before Brady is done.” Inigo diverted the question.

“He is done.” Owain gently replied before he reached out and took Inigo’s hand. “You were staring rather intensively at your hand. Did you injure it?”

Owain’s touch sent a jolt down Inigo’s hand and through his arm. “No! I’m fine.”

“You sure? Brady is always willing to take a look.” Owain gently pushed.

“I said it’s fine.” Inigo insisted.

Owain half smiled. “Okay, but you better not be lying.”

“I’m not.”

“Good.” Owain then lifted Inigo’s hand and pressed his lips gently to the skin. The jolt from the touch went through Inigo nearly knocked him out. “Just a healing technique my mother taught me.” Owain gave a wink before he leaned in and very gently kissed Inigo’s lips. “I’m going to see how everyone else is doing. Join me?”

“I’ve done enough walking around for today. I’m staying put.”

“Okay.”

Owain stood up and as he walked around greeting the others, laughing and smiling with them, Inigo looked back at his ash covered hands, and dug his fingers into the fabric of his pants. He couldn’t look at Owain without a dark sludge building up in his throat, threatening to violently burst from deep inside of his heart. The heart that felt just as blackened as the ash that covered his fingers. Owain would one day realise he deserved better and there was nothing Inigo could do about it.

Nothing except sit around and wait for it to happen all while enjoying Owain’s company for as long as he could. Because Inigo was a selfish sun eater who was never going to become better.

**Author's Note:**

> Black holes: Not sure how advanced Ylisse is in terms of astrology but we're going to say they know about black holes for this fic.
> 
> Inigo's father: I'm defaulting to Henry was Inigo's father (hinted with the kind of books Inigo was reading as a child).
> 
> Sun god: I usually compare Owain to a lightning god, but I wanted a warmer light in this fic so I picked the sun. I really like that imagery for Owain as well. Also I made the stuff up about the trickster sun god and am not basing it off anything. And should I hit some accuracy in some myth around the world it was purely Unintentional.
> 
> Sun Eater: I'm a massive sucker for the motif of "eating something to become something or embody the same attributes as something". There's something so visceral about that imagery that I adore.


End file.
